


Like Gods at the Dawning of the World

by Pthithia



Category: The Song of Achilles - Madeline Miller
Genre: First Time, M/M, but it's not super graphic, has this been done before?, idk I'm rating it mature anyway, sort of smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-18
Updated: 2016-02-18
Packaged: 2018-05-21 09:30:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6046603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pthithia/pseuds/Pthithia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The infamous cave scene on Pelion from Achilles' point of view.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like Gods at the Dawning of the World

One evening, not long after my sixteenth birthday, Chiron, Patroclus and I sat by the fire's embers, watching them spark and fade late into the night. I had been gone almost all afternoon with my mother, and she had kept me much longer than normal. She wanted to know what I was learning. How I was. If I was happy. Would I come to the sea with her? If I missed home. The questions were endless. However, today I had gleaned some new information I did not intend to let go to waste.

I was playing the lyre - the one that had once belonged to Patroclus' mother. It was a soft song, one that sang to the stars above our heads. My mind was not on the music, but rather Patroclus, sitting beside me. He stared blankly at the glowing embers and ash, the light flickering onto his features, smooth and peaceful in the night. He was tired, I could tell, but I did not intend for him to sleep so soon tonight.

Chiron yawned from beside Patroclus. I continued to play for a moment before realizing my opportunity, and seizing it. My music stopped, and I spoke loudly, too loudly. "Are you weary, Chiron?"

"I am."

"Then we will leave you to your rest," I said, feeling bold. I knew I should not speak for Patroclus, but found it hard to care. My heart was pounding at what I was about to attempt. I stood and said a quick good night to Chiron before leaving for the cave. I did not turn around, but I knew Patroclus had risen as well. The thought made my pulse quicken.

I entered the cave and quickly washed up: my arms, my hands, my face. I forced myself to calm down, breathe deeply. My heart's pounding slowed slightly, and I sighed in relief.

By the time Patroclus entered the cave I was already in bed, under the blankets. I watched as he washed his face, using the soap we had made. I took another deep breath. It was silly to feel nervous.

"You didn't ask me about my mother's visit yet."

He didn't turn. "How is she?"

"She is well." This was not the question I wanted him to ask.

"Good." He lifted a handful of water and rinsed off his face, reaching for a towel to dry off. I steeled myself before speaking again.

"She says she cannot see us here."

"Hmm?" He still did not turn, half paying attention.

"She cannot see us here. On Pelion." I was beginning to feel stupid. My voice sounded taut and strained.

He turned to me, at long last. "What do you mean?"

I looked at the ceiling, feeling suddenly shy. The longer we spoke the faster I lost my nerve. "She says - I asked her if she watches us here." My voice wavered against my will. "She says, she does not."

He was silent. The slowly draining water made noise to fill the unease, loud and uncaring. "Oh."

"I wished to tell you. Because-" I paused, filtering through my panicked thoughts. "I thought you would wish to know. She-" I stopped again, avoiding looking in his direction. I did not want to see the look on his face. "She was not pleased that I asked her."

"She was not pleased," he repeated slowly. After a moment I heard him move to the bed, pulling back the blankets and carefully crawling in beside me. I did not chance to look at him.

He lay there for a long moment before asking, "Are you- pleased with her answer?"

" Yes."

The ensuing silence was uncomfortable, strained and tense. Any other night we told stories and jokes in bed, talking about the constellations painted on the ceiling, pointing out separate stars. I rolled over to look at him.

He was laying on his back, eyes closed, breathing deeply, the picture of peace. I almost thought he was asleep, and was about to be horribly disappointed, when his eyes fluttered open again. They landed on me, silently staring, worrying at the inside of my lip. I leaned forward.

Our lips met, as they had that day on the beach, and I was not afraid. His body was tense, still, trembling, and I guessed he was nervous. We breathed deeply together, our lips moving softly. It was a miracle.

Timidly, he trailed downward, kissing my neck, my throat, my chest. I pressed him closer, my heart pounding.

I froze as he took me in his hand, feeling the soft calluses on his palm. The gentle roughness made me gasp, arch my back a little. I needed more.

I noticed we were tangled in the blankets and quickly thrust them aside, the cool night air tickling at our bare flesh. Carefully, ever so carefully, my hand ghosted over his stomach, finding him and gently stroking, his hips lifting slightly to meet my touch. He pulled me closer, and I could feel his trembling, the racing of his heart, the quickening of his pulse matched to his shuddering breath. I did not doubt I sounded the same.

He might have said my name; it was breathy and hard to catch, nothing more than a light gasp that blended into the sound of our heavy breaths and the quiet slide of skin on skin.

He clung to my shoulders, pulling me impossibly closer so you could not tell where my body ended and his began. I buried my face in the crook of his neck as he gasped over and over, the noises becoming more breathless with every touch. I knew he was close. Do not stop, he whispered to me, threading his shaky hands through my hair.

I did not stop, shifting my hand with the same swift pace as I felt him tense up, letting out a hoarse cry as he arched against me, wet warmth spreading over my hand and stomach.

He was fast. His hand found me again, found the spot that made me writhe against him. My eyes closed. He created a rythm that he must have known I liked by the way my breath stuttered, the way my skin warmed. I squeezed my eyes closed tighter as the feeling mounted, more intense with each shift of his wrist. My gasps quickened as I felt the end approach, heart hammering loudly. My mouth fell open, an inarticulate cry coming from my throat as I spilled onto his taut stomach.

I slumped against the bed again, feeling pleasantly boneless, pressed closely against Patroclus. After a few moments of breathless, panting silence we untangled our limbs and peeled apart, sweaty and sticky and our mouths kiss-swollen. The cave smelled odd, almost sweet, yet warm. My eyes flickered up and met his. We did not speak. I wondered what he was thinking.

"I did not think-" I began, then stopped. I almost said I did not think that he had felt as I did, but that seemed almost wrong to say.

"What?" he asked softly, eyes on me. He looked almost fearful.

I tried to choose each word carefully. "I did not think that we would ever-" I hesitated.

"I did not think so either."

"Are you sorry?" I asked, all in one breath. I did not know what I might do if he was.

"I am not."

"I am not either."

We were silent again. I found it hard to mind that the pallet was damp or that I was sweaty and sticky when I saw the surety in his warm colored eyes, gazing at me in beautiful pleasure.

I reached for his hand, hoping to convey the same contentment to him. Our fingers laced together, mine thin and slender, his larger and firm, warm and caring.

"Patroclus," I said softly. He smiled at me.

The next morning I woke slowly, pulling my mind through foggy layers of sleep, half forming a good morning to Patroclus. He was awake already and watching me, my hand curled lazily atop his stomach. I felt woozy, like my bones were made of water. It was not an unpleasant sensation. After the tenderness had come more passion; slower, lingering, over and over, just the two of us. I remembered the potentially embarrassing things I had said and done, the pleading noises I had made. I hoped he had not changed his mind.

I pulled through the fog, finishing my greeting, reaching for his hand again. We lay like that, curled together easily, the cave slowly brightening with sunshine, until Chiron called us.

We ate first, then ran to the river to wash. For the first time I watched him openly, and he did the same, the both of us exchanging small smiles across the water. Afterwards, on the riverbank, we explored each other again, the sweet sunlight turning us into something to be rediscovered. And when it was over, we lay side by side gazing at the canopy above us, fingers interlaced, no words needing to be spoken to express the happiness we felt in that moment. I rolled over to softly whisper to him that I shall always feel that way.

His smile would have put any star to shame.

**Author's Note:**

> Has this been done before? I don't know, but I couldn't find one so I thought I should write one myself. This is what happened. As always, this is unbeta'd, so any and all mistakes are mine and feedback is much appreciated! Thanks for reading!


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